Hero
by Moonglow gal
Summary: Sango, the strong and dependable, has a great weakness. A lecherous, annoying, lovable weakness. But this weakness may prove to provide her with her greatest strength…


**Hero**

Hihi! What's up? I love Enrique Iglesias and his song Hero (which, incidentally, is the song in this fic)! I'm so happy! I think this is my second fic regarding the relationship between Sango and Miroku! Whee!

They re _such_ a cute couple! I mean, it's fun to write Inu/Kag because they argue so much, but Mir/San is _sooooooooooooooooooo_ CUTE!

Disclaimer: (snarl) NO! ME NO OWN! MOONGLOW GAL NO POSESS INUYASHA, OR ELSE MOONGLOW GAL WOULD BE HEAP HAPPY! (can anyone tell that I really feel like watching Peter Pan right now?) MOONGLOW GAL NO _BE_ HEAP HAPPY BECAUSE MOONGLOW GAL NO OWN INUYASHA! IS MOONGLOW GAL BEING MADE CLEAR? GOOD!

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"Hiraikotsu!"

"Sango, look out!"

"Ah…!" The raven-haired demon exterminator turned in time to see a chain sickle hurtling toward her. She squeaked and ducked.

'No time to pull her out of the way!' the monk thought desperately. Without another thought, he dashed to her side and pushed her to safety.

As surprised as she was by his sudden collision with her, the demon slayer agilely twisted around, until she was sliding backwards out of the flashing blade's path. "Miroku!" she yelled, watching in horror as the viciously sharp weapon tore into the less lucky monk's left arm.

Wincing in pain, he stood and ran toward her. "Sango, are you all right?" he asked, wrinkling his forehead in worry.

"I'm fine," she assured him, and he breathed a sigh of relief. "But Miroku, your arm…" She touched his shoulder gingerly, hoping it wouldn't worsen the pain that such a deep cut must have been causing.

He pulled away. "I'll be fine. Go get Hiraikotsu; I can still fight with my right arm."

After a moment of hesitation, she nodded, and returned to the battle.

**Let me be your hero.**

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"Honestly, Miroku, you should've told me exactly how deep this cut was," Sango scolded as she bandaged his arm. "If I had known that you were going to collapse from blood loss, I wouldn't have left you in the middle of the battlefield like that."

He gently covered her hand with his, staring into her unusual magenta eyes. "I didn't want to worry you," he said softly.

After a tense moment, she turned away, although Miroku thought he had noticed a blush on her cheeks.

**Would you dance**

**If I asked you to dance?**

**Would you run**

**And never look back?**

"Anyway," she continued brusquely. "You have to learn when not to push your limits. Remember that time when you ran off because that mantis demon tore the edge of your Wind Tunnel? If it hadn't been for us, you would've died."

Miroku chuckled weakly. "No, I wouldn't have let myself die. I didn't want to make any of you upset. Especially y—"

"There," she interrupted, tying off the bandage a little more firmly than she had meant to, making Miroku flinch. "Sorry! Now, just take it easy on that arm for a couple days, okay? Unless you _want_ to injure yourself further?" She glared at him beadily.

**Would you cry**

**If you saw me crying?**

**And would you save my soul tonight?**

Miroku sighed and obediently answered, "No, of course not," seeing that this wasn't the best time for him to say what he wanted to say. Besides, even it had been the most perfect moment in all history for him to speak out, Sango would've found some excuse to haul ass out of there.

Speaking of ass…

He admired the fine view he had of her rear end as she stood and hurried out. He rejoiced when she dropped a spare bandage, presenting him with an even better view as she bent down to scoop it up.

As if she could hear his thoughts, she turned and glared at him suspiciously. He grinned innocently, then ruined the effect by waggling an eyebrow. With a face the same shade as her eyes, she rushed out of the hut, pointedly keeping her face turned away from Miroku.

Once she was gone, the monk stared at his right hand and sighed. Contained in that innocent-looking hand, covered with a purple cloth and blue holy beads, was a hellhole: a tunnel that sucked in whatever he pointed it at. Because of that, his life would one day be cut short. Because of that, he was on a quest, along with the rest of his friends, to kill the half-demon Naraku and free himself of the curse.

And…

He grinned slightly.

Because of that, he had to leave an heir in the world to carry on his quest, in case he died before Naraku. And that gave him an excuse to hit on every beautiful woman he passed.

But the most beautiful woman in the world he left alone.

Yes, occasionally, he would take a moment to admire Sango's unsurpassed figure, through touch as well as sight. But the one thing he couldn't bring himself to do was ask her to bear his child. He couldn't risk putting her through that kind of pain…watching the father of your children die, and not being able to do anything about it.

Obviously, he knew nothing about how a woman would feel, but he knew that _he_ would be heartbroken if his chosen woman died with him looking on, helpless.

He wrinkled his forehead. Besides, he could never force his will on someone so resistant. Her sense of honor and duty, he knew, would forbid her from that.

And for that, he loved her all the more.

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Sango hurried out of the hut, frantically trying to rub the blush out of her cheeks. Why did he always have to be so be-damned charming? Especially when he didn't mean it…

She sighed and leaned against the wall of the hut. She couldn't help it. Despite his womanizing tendencies, his unbelievably thick skull, and every other annoying thing about him, she loved him. And she just knew that he didn't feel the same.

And that thought hurt. A lot.

She sighed and covered her face with her hands. "Why, Miroku?" she murmured. "Why do you have to be so kind-hearted? Why do you have to be so understanding? Why the hell do you have to be so _damn good-looking_?"

She let her hands slide down a little, until she could see the surrounding forest above her fingertips. "Why do you have to act like you care?" she whispered.

**Would you tremble**

**If I touched your lips?**

**Would you laugh?**

**Oh please tell me this.**

"I don't _want_ to love him," she muttered. "I _shouldn't_ love him. Not a lecherous monk like him. But…" She glanced at the wall of the hut, as if she could see right through it, and see the man she loved. "I can't help it, Miroku. I can't. I can't resist your kindness, your wisdom…the warmth of your arms…"

She blushed, remembering another time when he had rescued her from a demon, carrying her away from the danger, shielding her with his own body, getting an similar injury to the one he had now in thanks.

**Now would you die**

**For the one you loved?**

**Hold me in your arms tonight.**

"Damn it…" she muttered. "I never wanted to end up this way. I wasn't _like_ the other demon-slayer girls. They always giggled about boys, always wished desperately to find a man to fall in love with. In the end," she smiled humorlessly, "they all died, and the girl who never wanted it found herself drowning in love."

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Miroku stared across the fire at Sango, whose eyes were listlessly watching the flickering flames. He could see in their magenta depths immeasurable pain and grief. He already knew what she was thinking of. It always happened whenever they battled one of Naraku's minions. No matter how she tried to distract herself, her thoughts would inevitably turn to her little brother, Kohaku, who had lost his memories, his very soul, to Naraku.

The fact that they had had to battle the boy himself this time didn't help at all.

She blinked severely, trying, from Miroku's perspective, to hold back tears. He glanced around. Kagome, Sango's best friend, had gone home to her own era, and Inuyasha had most likely followed her to the well that led to the young woman's time, thus leaving him alone with his heart's desire.

Well, almost alone.

He glanced at Shippo, the little fox demon, who was watching the demon-slayer as worriedly as the monk himself had been just moments ago. At least with him around, there was a slim chance that he would be able to restrain himself from doing anything stupid.

He stood and walked to Sango's side of the fire, staff clinking as he laid it the ground. He crouched in front of her, touching her shoulder gently. "Sango?"

"What?" she responded roughly, but quietly. She sounded like she was trying to keep her voice from breaking.

"Are you okay?"

She glared at him half-heartedly. "Yes, just fine and dandy, Miroku. I'm so high-spirited right now, I wouldn't be surprised if the sun rose hours early, just to try and outshine the pure happiness I feel right now!" she exclaimed, heavy sarcasm evident through the mounting panic in her voice, which was steadily gaining volume.

"Sango, please, calm down." He gently laid a hand on her shoulder, shaking her oh-so-slightly. "Kohaku will be fine. I swear. We _will_ take him back, memories and all. And we'll kill Naraku. So please, don't be so upset."

**I can be your hero, baby.**

**I can kiss away the pain.**

She turned away, shrugging off Miroku's comforting grip. "I know. But…damn it, Miroku, he's my little brother! Even though he almost killed Kagome and me, and even though he succeeded in killing so many innocents, including our father, he's still my little brother! Somewhere inside his heart, there's still a little boy who is only beginning to think that not all girls have cooties, and who wants to become the strongest demon-slayer in the world, just like he thinks his father is!"

She stared at her lap, gnawing on her lip. "He's still a child, and I want to protect him. But Miroku, in all of this fighting, in this struggle for power, who's to say that I won't end up _killing_ him?"

"Get a grip, Sango!" Miroku said firmly, though not unkindly. "Kohaku is skilled. You know that. You won't kill him. You wouldn't be _able_ to. Your heart is too soft, too protective, too big to do that. We'll get the real Kohaku back from Naraku. You'll see." He crouched in front of her and studied her face. "But that isn't all that's bothering you, is it?"

She looked up, holding his eyes with hers for a moment. In that moment, it took all his willpower not to sweep her into his arms, so strong was the grief in her eyes.

"Miroku…do you know what day this is? The fourth day of the fifth moon cycle. Today…today is his twelfth birthday. And I'm not with him to celebrate it. I'm not there to watch the manhood ceremony that he would be going through right now if our village had survived. And he doesn't even _know_," she whimpered. "Today should have been one of the most important days of his…"

The rest of her sentence was cut off by her overflowing tears. "Kohaku…he went through so much pain…in those last moments of his life, he aged a thousand years. In an instant, he l-lost all of his innocence. And now, he doesn't even know who he is."

'Oh dear gods, not the tears, not the tears,' Miroku thought desperately. 'Now what? I don't know what to do with her! For any other woman, I'd just take her in my arms, but…I can't do that for Sango! She'll slap me to high heaven!'

After a moment of hesitation, he compromised between his normally dauntless protective instincts and more cautious fears of rejection. Gently tapping the shaking woman on the knee to get her attention, he spread his arms wide open, aninvitation for her to fling herself into his arms and cry her heart out. He smiled comfortingly at her, wanting to let her know that whether or not she accepted, he was there for her.

For a moment, she stared at him bewilderment. Then, she smiled weakly back at him and knelt down in front of him. She timidly wrapped her arms around his neck and rested her cheek on his shoulder, tears trickling down to wet his robes.

As he closed his arms around her, one hand gently (and, more importantly, _chastely_) rubbing her back, he felt her shiver. Then, quite suddenly, her quiet tears turned into heartrending sobs.

He was alarmed for a moment, not having remembered her to be so emotionally vulnerable since the day she had officially joined their circle of friends. Then, his widened eyes closed, and he unconsciously settled a cheek against her soft hair. "It's all right," he murmured. "It'll all be okay, Sango. I promise."

**I will stand by you forever.**

**You can take my breath away.**

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"Sango, are you all right?"

Sango snapped to attention, feeling her friend Kagome tug gently on her ponytail. Turning, she grinned at the shorter girl a bit unsurely. "Oh, I'm fine, fine. Why do you ask?" She self-consciously shifted the huge boomerang bone she had slung across her back.

The gray-eyed girl studied her friend suspiciously and a bit concernedly. "Well, we fought against your brother again a few days ago, and when I left, you were really upset. But when we came back this morning, you were…well, normal. And now, Miroku is hardly talking to you, you're doing your best to not pay attention to him, and Shippo is acting like he knows something we don't. It's really quite infuri— Sango?"

The demon slayer had flushed and looked away quickly.

That turned out to be a mistake, for Inuyasha had apparently asked Miroku a similar question (in that crude, to-the-point way of his), resulting in Miroku quickly avoiding his gaze. Which subsequently led to the locking of the two's gazes. In half the time it took for Kagome to formulate a theory about what had Sango acting so strangely, the demon exterminator had abruptly sped up and mounted her demon cat, Kirara.

"I think I shouldtake Kirara to scout ahead. I have a weird feeling about this place."

Inuyasha's eyebrows rose, disappearing under his sliver bangs. "Funny. Everything seems perfectly fine to me."

"Well, maybe I'm just being paranoid, but I would feel better if I go scouting."

"And I would feel better if Miroku went with you," Kagome declared. "If your weird feelings are right, you should take someone else along."

"No, really that's all right!" Sango said hurriedly. Mentally, she remarked, 'The only weird feeling I've got is coming from _him_. I need some time _alone_ to think _rationally_, but _noooo_…'

"I would feel better about your safety," Kagome insisted. "No matter how skilled you are, and yes, I know you are extremely skilled, two is better than one. Just take him with you."

"Yes, Sango, why should you object to an extra pair of scouting eyes?" Miroku suddenly chimed in.

Sango turned to glare at him. But when her eyes met his, she didn't see his usual joviality or excitement at an opportunity to grope her. Instead, his gaze was serious, his lavender eyes firmly saying, "I have to come along."

As always, she couldn't say no to even his unspoken requests. With a sigh, she nodded. "Fine. Come on, Miroku. But if you try anything weird…"

He held up his right hand, bound in holy beads. "I swear I'll be good."

She had to suppress a sarcastic grin as she patted the cat's back, motioning for Miroku to sit in his usual spot behind her. "Come on, then."

**Would you swear**

**That you'll always be mine?**

**Or would you lie?**

**Would you run and hide?**

He hopped up onto her back, then threaded his staff between Sango's body and her arms, the only way Sango would let him hold on to her when he rode Kirara. She, in turn, settled the boomerang bone behind him, so she could pull it out by the throwing strap without hindrance.

"Let's go, Kirara!" she instructed her fire cat. With a growl and a burst of flame, she shot up into the air, soon leaving Kagome, Inuyasha, and Shippo far below, nearly invisible through the trees.

As Kirara flew forward, Sango resigned herself to carrying out her excuse for coming out here and began to scrutinize the trees. Perhaps there really _was_ something weird going on. One never knew.

But then, she felt Miroku tap her shoulder. "You don't have to act around me, Sango. I know that the scouting was only an excuse. You know just as well as I do that we're perfectly safe."

The demon slayer stiffened, then rolled her eyes. Of course. Miroku could see through just about everybody.

"So tell me, why _did_ you want to come out here?"

Her mouth twisted slightly as she carefully picked her words. "I wanted some quiet…so I could think, you know?"

Miroku took the hint that she hadn't realized she'd given him and said, "By all means, go on and muse away. I needed some time to think myself." Then, he fell silent.

Raising an eyebrow that she knew he couldn't see, she obeyed and let her mind go. 'What was that last night? _Why_ did I just let myself go like that? That's about the third time I've _ever_ cried in someone else's presence.'

'Who cares about why? Whatever the reason, you got a looooong hug from Miroku!'

'But it was just a sympathy hug.'

'It was a hug all the same. Can't you still remember how warm and soft it was? He didn't take advantage of you, either!'

Sango blushed. The warmth of Miroku's body behind her was not helping her to think seriously. In fact, the damn monk was making it difficult for her to think at all. Her blush deepened as increasingly Miroku-like thoughts ran across her mind. Far too graphic for her taste, thanks very much!

'…not to say that I wouldn't love to act out a couple of those images…'

Sango slapped herself mentally. 'Snap out of it!'

'But this is so much fun…'

'No! No point in hoping for what will never happen!'

'You know that it could. All you'd have to do is respond the next time he gropes you.'

'I always respond to him.'

'You know what I mean! Let him know that you're interested, too!'

'That's just it! He _isn't_ interested! If I did respond, it would chase him away, and I would be mortified!'

'How do you know that?'

'How could anyone want me? I'm not pretty and strong like Kagome! (AN: You so are, Sango!) I'm not sweet like Koharu! (AN: I repeat…)'

'…'

'See?'

'Seriously, you need to have more confidence in yourself.'

'As long as I'm beside him, that will have to be enough.'

'You deserve more than that, and you know it.'

**Am I in too deep?**

**Have I lost my mind?**

**I don't care…**

**You're here tonight.**

About to respond to the mental reprieve, she felt Miroku's staff jerk hard against her stomach. She called over her shoulder, "What?"

His hand appeared over her left shoulder, pointing forward and a bit above them. She gasped. In the midst of her musings, a huge cloud of demon wasps had appeared. "Naraku's venom wasps!"

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"They're headed our way!" Miroku cautioned, shifting until he held his staff in his right hand, the left (still aching a bit from his recently healed wound) wrapped around Sango's waist so he wouldn't fall. Sango, understanding the reason behind the accidental embrace, only freed Hiraikotsu, holding it in the ready position.

Kirara snarled and surged forward with a burst of flame that left the back of the monk's neck feeling singed. As she neared the cloud of wasps, the fire roaring around her paws swelled. She swiped a flaming paw through the first line of wasps, instantly incinerating at least half of them, badly burning others.

But the cat, with two humans on her back, could only do so much against the immense numbers of wasps armed with powerful venom. Sango swung her boomerang like a club, crushing the many wasps that flew to attack her and Miroku. Miroku, the last line of defense, whipped his staff at any that escaped both Kirara's fire and Sango's powerful bludgeoning.

Abruptly, about half the cloud broke away and rose above the battle, then dived. Sango was still busy fighting the wasps on their level, and Kirara couldn't reach her paws high enough to stop the wasps before they fell upon her passengers.

Thinking quickly, Miroku reached into the folds of his robes and pulled out a holy sutra. In the blink of an eye, he charged it with raw spiritual energy and flung it into the midst of the attacking wasps. With an ear-splitting crack, a beam of bright blue light emerged from the sutra, instantly killing the entire division.

Sango, distracted, glanced up. Miroku, however, kept his eyes forward and continued killing the wasps moving forward. Then, as he sent a glance to the side, his heart froze.

There, streaking in from the until-recently empty air, was a lone wasp raising its stinger with a death promise in its tiny red eyes. Sango's weapon lay limp in her hand as she scrutinized the rain of dead wasps for any survivors. Kirara was still focused on the main force of wasps.

All rational thought stopped. Forgotten was his holy power, his staff, ready to swing. There was only the wasp, the wasp and its deadly sting, heading for Sango.

"NO!" He lunged and, automatically bracing his staff against Kirara's flank for balance, swung his arm wildly at the wasp. A searing, white-hot pain told him he had hit. Breathing hard, he pulled back, watching his victim, one wing crushed and useless, tumble down to the earth. He stared dully down at his arm. There, imbedded in it, right smack in the middle of his new, pink scar, was the long barbed sting, pumping venom into his body.

**I can be your hero baby.**

**I can kiss away the pain.**

Sango, who had turned the moment she heard Miroku shout, gasped. "Oh my god! Miroku! Kirara, turn around! We've got to retreat!"

The cat growled back at her, obviously saying, "I won't run away from a fight!"

"_Please_, Kirara! Miroku's hurt badly!"

Miroku shook his head as he dully yanked the stinger out of his arm. "If she doesn't want to leave the fight, she doesn't have to. I'll end it here and now." Struggling not to succumb to the sensation of knives slicing through his veins, he raised his right hand and gripped the string of holy beads.

"No, Miroku, stop! You'll kill yourself!" he faintly heard Sango scream. Ignoring her, he freed his hand from the beads, unleashing the hellhole in his right hand. He watched as the wasps were sucked into his hand, releasing their venom into his body. Only when the sky was clear did he realize that the knife-sharp pain had doubled. No, tripled.

...damn it, whatever it was, it hurt like the depths of fucking hell!

Suddenly weak, he collapsed against Sango. He felt her shoulders shaking, her back vibrating as she ordered Kirara to fly back to the others. Then, he felt her hand reach around and clutch at his, wrapping it around her waist, holding it there. "Miroku, you idiot. You stupid, stupid idiot!" Her fingers were shaking.

**I will stand by you forever.**

**You can take my breath away.**

"I had to do something, Sango."

"But you…Miroku, so much venom could very well kill you!" The shaking intensified. Her heart thumped hard, her lungs expanded and shrank quickly.

"I'll be fine," he murmured, barely noticing what he was saying through the pain drawing a black curtain over his eyes.

"If I can help it, you _will_ be. Please, Miroku, hang on!"

It was getting harder for him to breathe. His eyelids were growing heavier, as if someone had tied Hiraikotsu to his eyelashes. He so desperately wanted to close his eyes, to sleep and never wake up…

"I love you, Sango," he whispered.

**Oh I just wanna hold you.**

**I just wanna hold you.**

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Sango stiffened. Had he really said…?

She twisted around. "What did you— Miroku!"

Instead of reassuring, alluring purple eyes, she saw only a flushed face, mouth hanging open, nostrils flaring as they desperately tried to take in air. His breathing was getting so shallow. His heartbeat pulsed slowly and weakly against her back.

"Oh gods! Fly, Kirara, fly! Fly like you've never flown before!" She turned, squeezing Miroku's hand as hard as she could. "Stay alive Miroku! Stay alive!"

As the cat sped up, the breeze fanned Sango's unnoticed tears backwards until they trickled down the sides of her neck.

**Am I in too deep?**

**Have I lost my mind?**

**Well, I don't care…**

**You're here tonight.**

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"Look, Inuyasha, they're back!" Kagome said cheerfully, pointing up at the approaching blot of flame in the sky.

He frowned up at the sky, golden eyes scrutinizing the bit of fire as he sniffed at the air. "Something's up. They're coming in too fast."

They watched Kirara approach at a speed they had neverknown she was capable of. With a roar of flame (Kagome and Inuyasha jumped back to give her landing room), the demon cat landed solidly on the ground.

And that was when all three knew that something was desperately wrong. Inuyasha smelled tears, Shippo heard strained breathing, and Kagome, being Kagome, just knew.

"Sango! What happened?"

The demon slayer shook her head, speechless. Carefully, too carefully, she slid off Kirara's back. And then they saw what had been amiss.

"Miroku!"

The unconscious monk slumped as the woman he had been leaning against dismounted. She gently draped one of his arms over her shoulder, her arms and legs firm and supportive, despite her trembling lips. Slowly, gently, she slid him off of her battle companion's back, then dragged him over to Inuyasha, Kagome, and Shippo.

The three, momentarily paralyzed with horror, broke into a flurry of action. Inuyasha sped over to Miroku and took over the bearing of his weight. Kagome and Shippo rushed to Sango's side and began questioning her.

"What happened to him?"

"Were you _crying_?"

"It wasn't Naraku, was it?"

"Is he all right?"

Sango could only shake her head and whisper, "He has to be."

**I can be your hero, baby.**

**I can kiss away the pain.**

_**111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**_

"I don't know if he can pull through this, Madam Exterminator. This poisoning is grave. Even the miraculous medicines from your strange priestess companion can only do so much. It's all up to the monk's own strength now." The old healer shook his head. "Would you like to keep him company? Perhaps a friend's presence will help him win this battle."

Sango nodded wordlessly, the usual griefat the mentionher old title lost in her torturous anxiety. She entered the hut and bit her lip. Miroku, friendly, optimistic, lively, frustrating, but lovable, was laying on a straw pallet in the darkness, covered by a light blanket. The healer had removed the top half of Miroku's robes to make it easier to treat his sting. Sango wished he hadn't. His skin was swollen, the spread of the wasp demons' venom visible in his almost purple veins.

She shook her head hopelessly. "Miroku!" she sobbed. In a few, stumbling strides, she crossed the room and fell to her knees at his side. "Miroku, Miroku, I'm sorry! I'm so sorry!"

Her breaths came out raggedly. "You _never_ should have come with me! I _never_ should have let you! Why did you have to come? Why did you have to protect me? Miroku, you idiot! You stupid, stupid idiot!" She slammed a fist on teh ground with each word, until her hand was scraped and filthy from the dirt.Suddenly, she stopped, thenburied her face in her hands. "No, this is all my fault. Because of me, this happened to you. I could be responsible for your dea—"

Her throat constricted. "Gods, please, don't die on me, Miroku! Keep fighting! Please, keep fighting! Don't break my heart like this, Miroku! I love you so much! _Please_ don't leave me!"

**I will stand by you forever.**

**You can take my breath away.**

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Now this was odd.

Since when had the sun ever shone so dimly?

Or were the moon and stars just exceptionally bright?

Perhaps it was neither.

"Ah, yes, I remember." Sango, the wasp, his Wind Tunnel, darkness. "So I must be dead then."

"No, Miroku, not dead." A hooded and cloaked figure stepped out of the shadows.

Actually, it was more accurate to say that the shadows sort of broke up, part staying put, the other part forming the dim, ghostly figure approaching him. "But you're close. This is the crossroads. Here is where you decide: do you live or die?"

"Well, I want to live, of course!" he told the figure. "Why would anyone choose differently?"

The figure chuckled and said, "It's not that simple. You see, you must fight for your life. Life is a gift that some simply don't deserve. Are you worthy?"

"I believe I am," Miroku said boldly. Who did this figure's scratchy whisper of a voice remind him of?

"Think about it. What lies behind you, in the realm of the living? Torturous pain. That Wind Tunnel of yours will go out of control if you don't kill Naraku soon. And what will happen if your quest finally ends? You will lose your friends. Kagome will return to her time, Inuyasha will go to hell with Kikyo, Shippo will strike out on his own, and Sango will leave to rebuild her village. Where do you fit in?"

"How do you know so much about me?"

"I am the Guardian of the Crossroads of Life and Death. I watch, I wait, I fight. Miroku, if you allow yourself to die, you will pass into a world of boundless opportunity, of no limitations."

He shook his head vigorously. "Throw your worst at me. I won't die. Not now."

"Fine." The figure's voice strengthened. "Prepare to fight." The figure reached up to remove its hood. Even when bracing himself for the worst kind of monster, Miroku's heart almost stopped.

Sango!

"Fight me, Miroku. Are you ready to pay the price for your life? Take mine, and you are free to live," she said softly.

His chest felt suddenly too small, as if someone had wrapped his holy beads around his torso and pulled tight. "I—Sango! You know I can't—"

"Too late, Miroku. You chose to fight, and fight you will." With that, she lunged at him. The hood and cloak fell off to reveal her demon slaying uniform. One lithe arm pulled her sword from its sheath.

"Sango, please stop! I can't fight you!" he yelled desperately, raising his staff to block the blow.

She pushed her face close to his. "I just said. You said you would fight. My death or yours. Your choice."

He stared in horror at her cold magenta eyes, when a tiny thread of a voice appeared in his mind. "_Gods, please, don't die on me, Miroku! Keep fighting! Please, keep fighting! Don't break my heart like this, Miroku! I love you so much! _Please_ don't leave me!_"

"Sango…" he breathed. Then, he glared into the eyes of his attacker. "Imposter!" he spat. "I'll rip you to shreds!"

**I can be your hero.**

**I can kiss away the pain.**

The false Sango spat in his face and pulled away. As she raised her sword for another blow, Miroku swung his own staff, viciously catching her in the stomach. She fell to the ground with a grunt, and the livid monk advanced on her.

"How dare you? To take on the form of the most beautiful—the most wonderful—to make a man think that his greatest love had betrayed him…" His voice shook with anger. "You deserve to die."

Sango's imitator glared up at him. "Kill me then. If this Sango is really so precious to you."

"That's a good idea," Miroku snarled. As he raised his staff for the death blow, he glared into his target's eyes.

It was a mistake. Those eyes, so like, yet unlike, his beloved Sango's eyes, would not let him do it, even as they challenged him to. His arms refused to obey. His very heart screamed, "Stop! Stop! Stop!"

For a moment, he faltered. Then, with a sigh, he cast the staff aside, then knelt before his victim. "I cannot."

"Why not? You want to live don't you?"

"Yes I do. But somehow, I can't justify the sacrifice of another's life for mine. Especially Sango's, even if you are a fake."

For a moment, the false Sango stared at him. Then, she began to laugh. And then, she began to change. The most noticeable changes were in her clothing and hair. The hair whitened, shrank into her scalp, sprouted out of her chin, as the skin-tight combat outfit turned to loose, coarse material, something any beggar could be found wearing. And the false Sango was no longer a false Sango, but a realold man.

"You have made a wise choice, Miroku!"

"What?" He looked into the wizened eyes, now brown, surrounded by wrinkles. "Am I not to die now?"

"No, Miroku! You're free to return to the realm of the living! Don't you understand? Only those who value the lives of others are worthy of life themselves. Had you let the death blow fall on me, thousands of demons would have dragged you into Death's domain at that moment." He laughed again. "Go on, go on. Return to Sango. Make a life with her! And, please, send Naraku to me! I am most anxious to meet this fellow in person!"

At that, Miroku felt an odd tug somewhere behind his eyes. In an instant, the man, the shadows, the strange light, all blurred into a swirl of steadily darkening color. And then, everything disappeared.

_**111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**_

Everything throbbed. Everywhere, there was the immense pain, burning through every ounce of his flesh like so many burning-hot sewing needles, particularly that spot on his left arm where he had been stung, and his right arm from the elbow down.

Someone was sobbing somewhere off to his right. Soft cries, painfully moaned words. "I'm so sorry…it's all my fault…"

He forced his eyes open, a much harder feat than he had expected. What he first saw was a ceiling. So he had been brought into a hut, probably for healing.

Then, he cast his eyes over to his side, the source of the sobs and cries. "Sango?"

The slouched demon slayer jumped and stared at the monk. "Oh, thank the gods, Miroku, you're alive!" For a moment, it seemed that she wanted to throw herself upon him, an action he normally would have relished, especially in his half-naked state. But this time, he was glad that she held back. Wasp venom made all but the gentlest touch painful.

For a moment, Sango hesitated, then brushed his cheek with fingers as light as the wings of a butterfly. "I thought you were going to die," she whispered. "I thought…oh, Miroku, I was so scared."

He chuckled weakly. "Me? Dead? No, you won't get rid of me that easily."

**And I will stand by you forever.**

**You can take my breath away.**

**You can take my breath away.**

Sango's lip trembled. "It's all my fault. All this pain you're going through, almost losing you…" she shivered. "I _never_ should have let you come with me. I should have noticed that wasp. I should have stopped you from using your Wind Tunnel. If I had only…" She choked, a tear rolling down past her nose.

With tremendous effort and a lot of inward cursing, he lifted his arm and caught the tiny prism of water as it dripped off her chin. "I'm not worth your tears, Sango. Please, stop crying. It wasn't your fault. I was stupid, and now, I'm healing. It's okay. It'll all be okay."

She gently guided his hand down to the ground, settling it the way a mother settles her baby into bed. "I'm just so sorry. I still blame myself. Right now, you just heal, and once you're up, then we'll deal with whose fault it was."

Miroku hesitated, then blurted out, "Look, Sango, I need to tell you something. I just…right when I passed out, I realized how fleeting our lives really are, how a single moment can deprive of our...our loved ones. So Sango, I need to tell you now…I love you. I love you so much."

Her eyes popped. As serious as the moment was, her eyes resembled nothing more than large, swollen cherries as she took in what he had said. Then, she smiled weakly. "You already told me, Miroku. I thought it was just because you were losing consciousness and were babbling nonsense, but you _did_ say that before you blacked out."

A cavity opened in his chest. No answer. Only an, "I know." No, "I love you, too." He felt his heart shrink.

"I…Miroku, I was so afraid when I just saw you lying there. Besides, I have no right to keep it from you, now. I love you, too."

The vacuum inside his torso instantly filled with something warm and slightly bubbly, until he wanted to jump up and wrap his arms around her. Unfortunately, the venom still pumping in his veins didn't really permit that.

Sango, seeing his inner frustration, smiled and leaned over him. "Now rest, Miroku. The sooner you get well, the sooner I can hug you." With that, she placed a barely-there kiss on his lips.

"I think you want more than that," he teased, as sleep began tugging at the corners of his eyes.

Instead of turning pink, she grinned impishly back at him. "You can see through anyone, can't you?" She got up and fetched something from the other side of the hut. As she turned back, Miroku saw a blanket in her arms. She spread it over him, so softly that had his eyes been closed, he wouldn't have known that it was there. "Sleep well, Miroku." With that, she lay down beside, pillowing her head on her arm, and closed her eyes.

Miroku studied her for a moment, then chuckled to himself. Working slowly, he maneuvered his hand out from under the blanket and out to brush against her free hand. With that, he finally let his eyes close. "Sweet dreams."

**I can be your hero.**

_**111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111111**_

La! That's the end!

Erk. This is 17 pages long (18 if you count the author's notes). U.U; They just keep expanding. I can't explain it. Anyway, I'm really proud of the middle of this one-shot. The beginning isn't bad, but the ending is just…yeah, whatever.

Anyway, I'm going to do my homework now, which is what I should have been doing for the past six-and-a-half hours or so. Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!

I want goodies. Please, contribute to the needy author. (passes around hat for change/food) No? Okay then, no charity necessary if you review!

Goodnight! (falls asleep) (slobbers on computer screen) (...ewww…)


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